


In which the fire alarm goes off

by flaneuse



Series: Sorority Verse [7]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Genderswap, Rule 63, and then sex happened, this was supposed to be a fun little ficlet, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:11:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaneuse/pseuds/flaneuse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fire alarm goes off at four in the morning, and nobody is pleased about this, least of all Enjolras. But Grantaire manages to make it up to her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In which the fire alarm goes off

**Author's Note:**

> warning before reading: i'm currently in the middle of rewriting this verse because a lot of the parts were written very early on in my involvement with this fandom and looking back i'm not quite happy. this is one of the ones that has not been rewritten. please keep that in mind!

The first thing Enjolras is aware of, once she gets past the blaring alarm that woke her up in the first place, is that Grantaire is not in the bed beside her. Her heart starts pounding and she's alert instantly, slipping on her shoes and pulling on a sweater as she runs out of her room.

As much as she wants to look for Grantaire straight away, she knows the protocol, and she follows it to the letter. Most of her girls are already stumbling out of their rooms, rubbing sleep from their eyes and muttering, but she has to drag Courfeyrac out of her bed kicking and screaming because she knows if Bahorel does it, somebody will get hurt. And it will be Courfeyrac.

Even though Combeferre assures her that Grantaire is not sleeping in the room they used to share together with Merci (now that Grantaire and Enjolras are together, she essentially lives with Enjorlas now), she can't help but check anyway, though the bed is made up neatly as if it hadn't been slept in in months, which it hasn't. Enjolras ushers everyone out and checks every other room in the house until she realizes that there is actually smoke, which means there is definitely a fire. Enjolras realizes she should be happy that their smoke detector is working properly but she's too scared because she still can't find Grantaire. The smoke is coming from the kitchen and Enjolras all but runs there, holding her shirt over her nose as she skids on the hardwood floors.

There is no fire.

There is just Grantaire, standing in an oversized t-shirt and her underwear in front of the toaster, which is practically billowing smoke at this point. Grantaire is drunk, and Enjolras is pissed.

Enjolras sighs and the dramatic effect is ruined by the coughing fit she ends up having. That seems to snap Grantaire out of her drunken stupor, and she looks over at Enjolras.

"Babe," she says brightly, even though she knows Enjolras hates pet names. "Want some toast?"

"Grantaire, what the fuck are you doing?" Enjolras asks. She doesn't curse that often, but it's almost four in the morning and her stupid drunk girlfriend almost burned the house down. 

"I was out with Élie and Cosme and they took me to a gay club which was awesome and they have really great drinks there like it doesn't even taste like alcohol so you'd probably like them-"

"I meant with the toaster." She interrupts, and Grantaire looks sheepish.

"Drunk munchies." Grantaire says by way of an explanation, and then, "The toast wouldn't get toasted enough." 

Enjolras walks over and yanks the plug out of the wall, then fishes out the bread from the toaster. It's entirely black, and probably not edible.

"Is that what you wanted?" She asks, deadpan, and Grantaire, stubborn little shit she is, nods and takes it from her, shoving it in her mouth.

Enjolras winces, because she's pissed at Grantaire but she's not cruel, and Grantaire looks like she's about to gag.

"Mmmmm," she says, not at all convincingly, and Enjolras just rolls her eyes and drags her out of the kitchen and the house.

"Come on, let's go wait for the firemen to get here."

 

Enjolras is still mad at Grantaire though, so when they get outside, she drops Grantaire's arm and announces that it's Grantaire's fault they're all standing outside in their sleepwear at four in the morning.

She goes to stand with Combeferre and they watch, amused, as Bahorel verbally eviscerates Grantaire. Joly starts an impressive tirade on every single disease they could possibly catch like this, then realizes Bossuet isn't wearing a hat and she tries to fold her hands on Bossuet's head because she's sure that since Bossuet shaved her head, she's at more risk than the rest of them. Joly is shorter than Bossuet, however, so she's not exactly successful.

Jehan is the only one who seems entirely at ease, considering she sleeps in as many layers as she wears during the day, and she looks warm and comfortable in her oversized wool sweater. Feuilly has her arms around her, tucked into the sweater, and Enjolras is pretty sure they've just fallen back asleep.

Courfeyrac, on the other hand, is using this opportunity to her advantage, and she's draped over Merci, who is blushing furiously.

"Are you cold?" She asks, and runs her hands up and down Merci's arms, as if trying to create friction. She's doing it far too sensually to be of any actual use however, and Merci gets redder, if that's even possible.

"I'm okay," She assures her, but Courfeyrac ignores her.

"Here, hold my hands," She says, grabbing for Merci's hands. "I'll warm you up."

From next to Enjolras, Combeferre looks almost disdainful.

"How long do I have to watch this?" She asks, and Enjolras feels bad for her. She knows that Combeferre and Courfeyrac used to have a… thing, but then again, Courfeyrac has "things" with almost everyone. But Combeferre had seemed more serious about it than Courfeyrac, and now that Courf only has eyes for Merci, Combeferre is less agreeable than usual.

"I'm sorry," Enjolras whispers, genuine. "I'd let you all back in, but it's protocol, and I don't want another lecture from the fire department." The last time had been enough, and also Grantaire's fault.

Bahorel is no longer yelling at Grantaire, and Enjolras can't help but look over and notice that Grantaire had left the house in what Enjolras dragged her out in: a threadbare tee and underwear. She wasn't even wearing shoes, for God's sake.

Grantaire is picking despondently at her blackened toast, and shivering, and Enjolras feels bad. She walks over and wordlessly hands her hoodie to Grantaire, who drops the toast and pulls it on gratefully. 

"I'm sorry," She says when the shivers have abated.

Enjolras sits down next to her and Grantaire immediately burrows in for warmth. Enjolras lets her, and puts an arm around her shoulders.

"No real harm done." Enjolras says, and her anger fades. "But next time you have drunk munchies, just wake me up and I'll make something for you, okay?"

Grantaire presses a quick kiss to the inside of Enjolras's wrist and nods, and for a second, everything is peaceful and quiet.

Then of course Grantaire ruins the moment.

"Jesus fucking christ, when is the fire department gonna get here? It's freezing and my nipples are so hard they're about to pop off."

There is a collective groan and Merci tries to surreptitiously cross her arms over her own chest, which only draws Courfeyrac's attention.

The fire department finds them like that: Courfeyrac trying to get at Merci's breasts, Feuilly and Jehan standing up asleep, and Grantaire curled into Enjolras's side.

Grantaire perks up immediately when they get there, however, and she asks them if she can get in the truck or keep one of their hats. Enjolras gets lecture number two, and then they can finally get back to their beds.

Enjolras all but collapses into bed and Grantaire closes the door behind them. She climbs over Enjolras and starts pressing kisses down her body, leaving goosebumps in her wake. Grantaire always wants to eat her out when she's drunk, loves ravishing her, a practiced sloppiness that makes Enjolras arch her back when she comes.

Grantaire's nose is cold as she nuzzles at Enjolras's hipbone, and she slips off Enjolras's panties in one movement. Grantaire's lips are cold but her mouth is hot, and Enjolras's hands come down to bury themselves in Grantaire's hair, holding her in place. Grantaire goes slow, achingly so, and draws her tongue deliberately over Enjolras's clit until Enjolras is shuddering.

Enjolras digs her nails into Grantaire's shoulders and hauls her up to kiss her, messy and deep. Grantaire's mouth is slick on hers, and she pulls away after a moment, whispering, "I'm not done with you yet."

Enjolras's body is coiled with wanting and she bucks up easily, swallowing the fingers that Grantaire had poised at her entrance. Grantaire works her open as she leaves marks over Enjolras's hipbone, at her inner thigh. She bites, quick and sharp, and sucks the injured skin into her mouth until it's a glaring shade of red. Enjolras knows that Grantaire loves finding the marks there the next morning, a mottled purple, proof that she was there. Grantaire doesn't tell her that it's not just that, it's also proof that her intimacy with Enjolras isn't just a vivid fantasy. It's real, and Enjolras chose Grantaire, even when Grantaire wouldn't have chosen herself.

Finally Grantaire puts her mouth on Enjolras again, and Enjolras throws her head back and comes, nails digging indents into her palms. She exhales unsteadily after, feeling boneless. Grantaire lazily traces shapes into Enjolras's stomach, and her muscles jump involuntarily.

"Fuck," Enjolras says into the silence, and Grantaire hums.

"I love it when you curse," She says idly. 

Enjolras smiles and pushes herself up, though it's no easy task, and sets herself over Grantaire. She's straddling Grantaire's waist, one hand trailing down to where Grantaire is wet and waiting for her. 

Enjolras leans down, nipping at Grantaire's earlobe.

"You fucking love it, don't you?" She asks, voice pitched low. She starts with two fingers and Grantaire gasps. "Eating me out.

"You love fucking me with your tongue, my hands in your hair, pulling until it hurts, keeping you there so you couldn't move even if you wanted to," Enjolras says, and Grantaire whines. Enjolras loves being in control, knowing every move that's going to be made and how Grantaire will react to it.

"You like the way I leave scratches down your back. You fuck me harder, and harder," Enjolras says, punctuating each word with a thrust and crook of her fingers, "until I've left you bleeding."

Grantaire bites at her lip, nodding desperately and rolling her hips upwards. 

"I've seen the way you wear tank tops after we fuck, so everyone can see how I ravaged you. So everyone can see that you're mine," Enjolras slips in another finger on the last word, swiping her thumb over Grantaire's clit, just barely dragging her blunt nail over it, and Grantaire comes hard, crying out.

Enjolras bites down on her shoulder as Grantaire comes, and sucks hard as Grantaire clenches down around her fingers.

By the end of it, Grantaire's chest is heaving, and Enjolras lays back, smirking.

"God, it's almost six am," Grantaire mutters, and Enjolras laughs.

"Almost time to get up," she says, just to be annoying and Grantaire snorts and pulls the blanket over the two of them.

"No way," she says, curling around Enjolras, who lets herself be enveloped by Grantaire's body and scent.

"We are staying in this bed forever and when we wake up, we are having breakfast and then more sex," She says resolutely, and Enjolras just agrees, too sleepy to do anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> Send comments/questions/concerns/and maybe even prompts over to grantairer.tumblr.com xoxo seriously, come talk to me, I love to hear from you :)


End file.
